Under Locke and Key
by Redemption-Isle
Summary: after Season 2, Locke seeks his destiny. Hurley's journey. The Other's home.New character, not Mary Sue.island mysteries revealed. CC, Jate, Skate. Please review! Lost and the characters thereof are not my property.
1. Chapter 1

In the jungle, a woman is making a net. She picks up a stalk of plant, splits it open with a fingernail, scrapes out the center and flattens the remainder. She knots it to another one which is part of a twisted rope she has kept clenched between her fingers. Then, almost too quickly to see, she twists the top piece away from her then holding it tight to preserve the twist, pulls it toward her and around a bottom piece. Now the bottom has moved to the top and the operation begins again. Sweaty and careworn, she is obviously not accustomed to tropical conditions, her pale skin shows signs of sunburn and insect bites. Her jeans are becoming ragged from the wear and tear of the jungle. Her hair is completely hidden by a tightly wrapped piece of cotton. The work is monotonous, the surroundings monotonous, but on this island everything can change in the blink of an eye. And then, it does.

A blast echoes through the woods and the smell of cordite is right behind the sound. She is up and running in an instant, tearing through the undergrowth heading for the hatch. But before she can get there something new and terrible begins-a sound like God's own window fan and then a violet-white light. For a woman her age there can only be one response to this: duck, cover and wait for the shock wave. As she does, she flashes back to her childhood. In the elementary school.

The children are huddled in the windowless hall kneeling along the concrete wall, bent over with their heads touching the ground and their hands protecting the backs of their necks. All are motionless and silent until in the distance the all-clear silence is heard. "All right, children" the teacher raps out, "we will be going outside for recess and then straight to lunch." "My daddy works at the Pentagon," boasts a boy with sandy hair and buck teeth, "and he says there's no point to drills here, 'cause if there's ever an attack, we'll all be vaporized instantly!" The other boys gathered around him and began to add sound effects of blasts, bombs falling and machine gun fire. Among the girls is one who is oddly colorless, the kind of sad child who inevitably draws teasing with plain looks and awkward shyness. She is one of the few children who is not visibly excited about recess. Once out on the playground, she waits her turn for the swings watching wistfully the children playing in groups. One of the popular girls turns to her and says, "Come on, Diana, we're playing follow the leader!" With a joyous grin, she joins them following all over the playground until they come to the boat. The boat, an old Chesapeake crabbing vessel is partially buried, and all the children love it, except Diana. She looks dubiously at it and hesitates until goaded on with taunts of "Fraidy cat! Fraidy cat!" Then, she swallows her fear and joins them. The leader takes them round the deck and then down into the hatch, the cargo hold with no windows, moldy, dark and dank. Everyone is watching her, so she dares not pause or she will be publically shamed. She crawls down through the hatch doing the pirouettes the leader has shown and just as she reaches the hatch to get out, it is slammed shut in her face. She can hear their giggles as she knocks and says "Let me out!" And then, the bell rings and recess is over, the children run to line up and leave her there, out of teacher earshot, banging and yelling helplessly.

She waits several minutes after the cessation of the light and then gets up and again runs toward the hatch. As she runs, she steels herself:she may have to go into that underground place to help rescue someone. She wonders if she can ever be that brave. As she approaches the place she has avoided she is relieved to see four dirty figures. Coughing and sneezing from the smoke, Eko, Charlie, Locke and Desmond are stumbling out. "Is there anyone else inside?" she cried urgently.

"No, no, we are the only ones" said Desmond.

"Are you okay?" she asks. "What happened? I heard a blast; I smelled TNT."

Eko said, "No one was hurt by the dynamite, I was trying to blow open the blast door, which John had closed to keep me out."

"John Locke! Why would you lock Father Eko out?"

"Diana, I was wrong, but I thought the button didn't do anything. When I had tried to talk Eko out of pushing it earlier, he wouldn't listen." Then, he took in the reactions on the faces around him and added, "And he punched me."

"Father Eko, you _punched_ John?"

"But, Diana, he tried to wreck the computer, it could have been the end of the world so I had to punch him."

"The end of the world, Father? Of all the ridiculous things..."

Eko turned sheepishly to John and said, "Forgive me for hitting you, John"

Locke just stared sadly and the ground as he replied, "It was all my fault, Eko. All of it, and I was so sure I was right."

"Wait, wait" Diana said, shaking her head, "Where did you get dynamite?"

"That would be me" admitted Charlie, with an impish grin.

" Why would you give Father Eko dynamite to blow up the hatch?" implored Diana, obviously on the edge of hysteria.

"He told me he was absolutely certain everyone on the island would die, if he didn't."

"And of course, you believed that?" Diana stared at Charlie with complete incredulity and obviously could not think of a follow-up question to that. So she summarized, " So Father Eko believed that if the button were not pushed, everyone would die. John Locke believed the button didn't do anything. Charlie believed what Father Eko told him. You locked each other out, tried to blow each other up over whether or not to push the button? And you," asked Diana, looking at Desmond with resignation, "what did you do?"

"I think I crashed your plane." Desmond admitted.

After a double take at Desmond, Diana shook her head and began to weep, " I am so disappointed in you all. Don't you know you are loved? You just cannot behave this way when people love you. People need you, people would be demoralized without you. Can you imagine how devastated we would all have been if one of you had been killed? How about all four of you? We just buried Ana-Lucia and Libby, we can't take any more. Think of all the dead we have lost from accidents and murders since the crash. Joanna, that young man on the beach, Boone, Shannon, Mr. Arzt, Ana-Lucia, Libby...how many more will die before we start learning caution." Charlie mumbled under his breath, "Can't think of anyone right off who loves me." Diana, turned to him and with a sigh, she said, "Okay, rant over. Charlie, I love you and I am so glad you are okay; you're the music man, we can't do without you" she said with a smile breaking through the tears as she gave him a big hug and kiss on the cheek. "Father Eko, I love you and I am so glad you are okay. What would our little congregation do without you?" She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck and planted a kiss on his cheek. "I am so glad you are okay" she said to Desmond and gave him a polite little hug and smile, "and I am so sorry you were locked up in that cave for so long." "And John, I love you and I am so, so glad you are okay," she said advancing toward Locke and beginning to open her arms. Suddenly she blushed deeply and looked discomfited, she turned away and said, "I'll see you later."

Desmond thoughtfully watched her go and then turned to Locke, "Hey, Boxman, I think you've got yourself a secret admirer, yeh?"

Locke turned his tormented face to Des and said "What?"

Desmond said, "Everybody got a hug but you, mate, and did she blush when she decided she didn't have the nerve for it."

Charlie quipped, "Boxman and Spiderwoman-who would've guessed it?"

Locke demurred, "No, no, Desmond, she's just very shy. I think she was just embarrassed."

Desmond slyly grinned and noted, "Shy, Boxman, that's why she said all that about takin' care of yoursel' because somebody loves you, all the while sneaking glances at you and weeping. Oh, very shy, that one, yeh. Why do you call her Spiderwoman, hey?"

"That's one of Sawyer's nicknames," Charlie grinned, "she's the one makes all the ropes, rope hammocks, nets for Jin." Seeing Desmond's puzzled look, he added with a mock exasperated sigh, "So she always looks like she's weaving a web. Sawyer really got her with that one, said that was sure the only way she's ever catch a man with her age and looks, to catch one in a web. Heh, heh, good one that."

Charlie, who had greatly enjoyed the dressing-down since he was the only one who felt no guilt whatsoever, now began to consider how to turn the situation to his best advantage. "I'll make sure I get back to the beach first," he thought, "and stay mum. Then Locke will have to tell the story again and again. If I'm lucky, I'll get to watch him screamed at twice or even thrice, if I keep a good poker face." Just then, he cleared the tree line and saw the sight which had impelled him to help Eko in the first place, Claire and Aaron, safe and sound. In that moment, he knew that he had proven, if only to himself, that he was worthy of her. He had risked death to protect her and her child. Someday soon, she would know he was worthy, too.


	2. A Matter of Trust

Immediately after Charlie left, Locke took off in the direction Diana had gone. Desmond watched him leave, then turned to Eko, "Romeo and Juliet on the Island of Dr. Moreau, yeh? Now that the smoke has cleared, perhaps we ought to survey the damage?" Eko nodded a silent assent and followed Desmond back into the Swan.

Locke caught up to Diana, gathering up her net and preparing to head back to the beach. "Need some help?" he offered gently.

"I always need help with this thing," she said with a rueful smile, "and it's still not as big as Jin wants it." Silently they worked together gathering it up.

Then John said, "I am sorry I worried you. I was completely wrong, but I was so sure I was right. Now the Hatch is wrecked. People might have been hurt. Nothing makes any sense to me any more." He picked up the bulky and heavy net and said, "I think I can carry this net back to the beach for you without screwing it up."

"John, don't be so hard on yourself. You have done amazing, astonishing things to help us all. Anyone who dares great things also risks great failures. I would still bet on you to be the one who brings back the next great blessing to our village." He shook his head, and said, "I don't think many of the others would agree with you, Diana, I'm not sure even I do." And they walked home silently in the gathering twilight.

Since Desmond and Eko had stayed to survey the damage to the Hatch, Locke and Diana arrived at the beach before them. Rose came running up. "What happened?", she asked.

Locke sighed and began by taking the blame, "It was all my fault..." Diana filled her water bottle and sought the solitude of her hut. It was different from any other shelter on the beach, an upright bamboo hut, actually a bit into the trees, with a floor elevated above the ground, a thatched roof and a roll-up bamboo blind as a front door. Inside was surprising, too, a rope hammock spanned the round interior, which had hooks and shelves full of handmade items. There was soap, rope, floats made from foam scavenged from the plane, reed mats, coconuts fashioned into oil lamps, containers of sea salt, hammered shapes of aluminum and carved bits of wood. As soon as she entered, she took down a tiny battered book, no larger than the palm of her hand, bound in green leather and began to read aloud, "I lift up mine eyes to the hills. From whence cometh my help?"

Locke had finished his account to Rose and had received a sardonic lecture for his trouble. Charlie could not have been more pleased. Only Rose, Bernard and Claire had heard it. This was going better than he could have hoped. He would let Locke have just a moment's peace and then drop a hint to the crabby woman from Wisconsin. "If Hurley were here," he thought, "the news would go through the camp in huge clumps." Minimizing the size of each group would lengthen the revenge he would have on Locke for punching him. And when Hurley came back, a hint that the blowup would stop the airdrops of Apollo Bars would probably provoke an attack as severe as Hurley had meted out to Sawyer. "Oh, yes," he thought, "I know just how to pace it. I'll even let him think it is over and then drop it on him again. He's such a sodding busybody, it's no more than he deserves." He had a serene, satisfied look on his face as he bounced Aaron on his knee and remembered Claire's kiss.

An hour later, Locke had endured the inquisition from Rose, from crabby Patty, from Neil the Frogurt Guy and now, the huffy Harvard lawyer was lighting into him. "How dare you take such an action on your own? Who are you to make such critical decisions for all of us? Who elected you King of the Island? You stupid screw-up, you killed Boone and now you're working on killing us all. Are you an idiot? I think we ought to consider locking you up before you do any more harm." The way the man was ranting it was obvious he wasn't going to wind down soon. Diana emerged from her hut and walked over to the water trough, right next to the group.

"You owe us all for wrecking the hatch. Now we have no electricity, no washer, no dryer, no hot water, no shower. How can you pay that back, huh, Locke? How?" he glared at Locke, his face suffused with blood, sweat running down his brow, trembling with rage. "Funny you should mention paybacks, Bruce," Diana said in a gentle and humorous tone, "I pay Rose back for my laundry, by making her soap. John Locke pays Kate for the fruit she gathers with boar meat. Jack pays Jin back for the fish with medical services. I've seen you give Rose your laundry; I've given you soap and rope; Jack's given you medical care; Jin's given you fish; Hurley even built you a golf course. But I have never seen your Harvard educated self doing anything for anybody."

"I beg your pardon, does anyone here need legal services? I'll be glad to assist. Anyone interested in suing Oceanic Airlines? Class action suit, anyone?"

"Bruce, when the market changes, you've got to change your product. I'll be happy to retrain you as a leather tanner or metal worker. Otherwise, find a need and fill it. Beginning today, people, I am instituting trading for my goods. One bar of soap represents 4 hours of hard work for me. Be prepared to bring your stock in trade or ask me what I need in the way of scraps and materials. Claire will get what she needs from me for free, because she is rearing our next generation." When Diana completed this announcement, she slipped back into her hut. John looked thoughtfully after her as the group dispersed.

The next morning, John sought out Desmond. "Desmond, I have some questions to ask you about your attempted escape from our fondly regarded 'Craphole Island'. Have you got some free time?"

Des turned up the wattage on that wry smile and said "I may be able to work you in between half-past and elevenses. What do you need?"

John settled in on the sand by him and asked, "Did you use GPS or a compass on your boat? How did you estimate your speed? Do you know the coordinates of where we are?"

"Hold up, mate," Desmondobjected with a put-upon expression, "I can't answer as fast as you're askin'."

As they settled in for a nice long chat, Charlie was trying to teach Bruce how to husk coconuts, without much success. Eko was drafting Neil to help with the church building. Bernard and Diana were trying to work some metal while Rose, lounging in the shade with Aaron, watched.

"Diana, do you ever slow down? Girl, you are gonna run outta gas if you don't recharge."

"Rose, you remember how everyone reacted after the crash? You were worried for Bernard, but you were sure he was alive. I got up off the ground with a big grin on my face, grateful to have been saved. But ever since then, I've had a very bad feeling, like time is running out. Like there are things I must get done. And even worse than that, like only I can do them. That sounds real conceited, doesn't it? But it doesn't feel like I'm hot stuff or anything, just like others have their work to do and I have mine. They can't do mine and I can't do theirs."

"Sounds like a standard case of survivor guilt to me," quipped Rose with a little huff. "You're just trying to justify your survival by earning it."

"Likely you're right," mused Diana, "whenever I think about the dead, I remember a quote I read somewhere that said something like 'when an old person dies, it is like a library of irreplaceable books has burned to the ground.'"

"So why don't you?" Rose insisted.

"Why don't I what?"

"Why don't you take a few days? Just stare at the ocean, spend the nights stargazing, use some of that coconut oil on your skin instead of in the soap?"

"There's something I've been avoiding thinking about, and if I do that, I won't be able to avoid it anymore."

"You're just puttin' off trouble then. What's so bad you can't face it?"

"My mother died, just two weeks before we crashed. She was my only family. Somehow, I never thought she would die. I just feel so alone when I think of it..." and she began to tear up.

"You poor thing! No family at all? No cousins? Nothing?" At each of these questions, Diana had shaken her head no. Rose then put her arm around her and said, "Oh yes you do! You've got a niece, Claire, a great-nephew, Aaron, a sister Rose and a brother-in-law Bernard."

The two women embraced and kissed. Aaron was so tickled that he started to shriek with laughter. Metalwork forgotten, Bernard and Diana got down on the blanket with Rose to revel in Aaron's antics.

In the afternoon, Locke approached Diana's hut. "Knock, knock," he said.

"Who's there?" she replied.

"Banana," he smirkingly answered.

"Banana, who?" she tolerantly asked.

"Banana, banana, banana, banana, banana! Knock, knock."

"Who's there?" she answered giggling.

"Orange," he said with a very self-satisfied air.

"Orange, who?" she barely got out between outright laughing and gasping for air.

"Orange you glad I didn't say banana again?" he finished and they both sat down laughing helplessly.

"That is so _stupid_," she shrieked, "and it's my favorite!"

They had reached that point of hilarity when it is out of control and simply must be ridden out to the end. Finally, wiping tears from their eyes, sniffling and fighting the last little giggles and snorts, they shared a look of comradeship very like that shared by playmates who are so attuned that they like all the same games.

"John, you have no idea how much I needed that. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Some day when you are down and everything looks hopeless, I'll tell you a shaggy dog story."

"Madame," said John with a burlesque of a Musketeer bow, "you are showing ze true spirit of-how you say-gonorosity uh gerenousy, uhm gen-er-ous-i-ty."

"So, are you here for your climbing harness? It's finished." She fetched a rope pouch from off a hook and brought it out. "See, if the person in it is conscious, the arms go here. If it's an unconscious person, you put the arms here and it holds them upright so they can't fall out or be choked. I made these climbing gloves and this leg sleeve for if you want to slid down quickly. Up here, this is a pulley set up so you don't have to pull up your whole weight. This hook lets you fasten it to a tree without even tying a knot. But it hasn't been field tested, I recommend you do that with a partner, over something safe, like a pond before you trust your life to it."

"How did you figure this out, Diana? What are you back home, a wilderness survival expert?"

"Nearly, I'm an IRS agent."

"That explains it. Rope to tie the taxpayer up, soap to clean up his dirty deeds and salt to rub in his wounds."

"Don't forget the lamps! Light to show all his hidden sins." quipped Diana.

"Right, um, I was talking to Desmond about how he ended up back here. I think it was because he was using a compass. The hatch was built here because of a unique magnetic source here. All of our compasses have been useless here, so I was thinking..." he paused obviously gathering his nerve, "could you make celestial navigation aids?"

"You mean precise aids, not just east is approximately where the sun rises and west is approximately where it sets."

"I mean something which would enable us on the island to be able to say the hatch is precisely northnortheast, the caves precisely northwest, something which would enable us to map the island."

"This is possible, but time consuming, I would have to set up an observatory on flattish, firm, cleared high altitude ground for the best results. There would have to be two aids, one for day and one for night, and they absolutely will not be idiot-proof. The results will depend upon the expertise of the user. We're talking a week at the very least, if I have a dedicated helper, if we can find an observatory site, if the weather cooperates and most importantly if the site is security system free. But John, even with all that, it wouldn't be all that accurate. Are you sure it's worth the time?"

"Yesterday you said you trusted me, did you mean it?"

"Yes, absolutely, if you say you need it, I will do it. But John, a week or two weeks? We're almost out of soap, I haven't finished the net. The camp is short Jack, Sayid, Jin, Sun, Kate, Hurley and James. Can't it wait?"

"I've been wrong before, and maybe I'm wrong now, but I think we need to get serious about learning the island. Remember how I told you the Others ambushed us when we were searching for Michael? How did they know where we would be? We didn't just meet up with them; they surrounded us. I think they have surveillance systems all over, and just maybe a subterranean transit system." He tried to gauge her reaction, "Do you think that sounds nuts?"

"Let's see, so far we have living survivors from a jet disintegration at altitude, intelligent black smoke and a grounded slave ship way inland on hill...an underground transit system fits right in, the surveillance may be a little too mundane, though."

"I knew I could count on you," he got to his feet and considered. "When do you think we can leave?"

"Let me get together a list of supplies, and let me try to get enough coconut oil tomorrow to make a batch of soap. If you get all we need together tomorrow, we can leave the next morning. I imagine I can get Charlie or someone to cook the soap."

"Excellent!" boomed John and he flashed her his brightest grin as he strode away.

"What have I done?" moaned Diana and she fell back onto her pillow.

She moped over to Rose and said, "Now I've done it, I've really gone and done it."

"What now?" sighed Rose heavily, "It couldn't be all that bad."

"I have agreed to go work on a project for a week or two away from the beach."

"What's so bad about that? It'll be quiet, you can think, pray, reflect and mourn for your mother. It sounds like it's just what you need."

"One, remember please that I am a total chicken. If the security system goes off, I will likely do the stupidest thing possible. Two, I said I needed an assistant, and John Locke may be planning to be that assistant. Rose, what could be stupider than a woman our age with a crush on a man who doesn't know she's alive? I am bound to betray myself. He'll do or say something friendly and I'll think it's something more. If only I could cancel and back out of it, but I don't see how without making everything worse. If only Hugo were here, I could probably talk him into going along and that would fix everything."

Totally exasperated, Rose fixed her with a gimlet eye, "Uh huh. When a woman has worked herself up to the state you're in, she isn't likely to stop 'til she has made a complete fool of herself."

"Thank you, dear sister, for the emotional support." Diana rolled her eyes and continued. "You said I needed a break and to mourn for my mom. This will be all that. Maybe Locke willbe gone or busy most of the time, and he doesn't talk much. Maybe I can get through it if Ijust keep my mind on my business. I really will have a lot to do. And anyway, I think Claire likes Locke and she likes him. what do you think, Bernard?"

Bernard whipped around wearing that universal guy look that says, "I know I can't answer this question in any way that won't get me in trouble". He pondered for a moment, and then shrugged and said, "Gotta go-" and darted off toward the latrine.

The supply list turned out to be no problem. By noon they had it all and even some things Diana had not imagined were available. Charlie had volunteered to make the soap. The unfinished net would be the province of Claire and crabby Patty. A couple of the younger guys promised to do the daily scraping of the boar skins, and that was it. Diana realized that all she had to do was pack her bag. Stepping inside her hut, she took a visual inventory. She began to fill her backpack, with a couple of coconut oil lamps, her southern skies astronomy guide, the little green Bible and then, hand shaking she picked up a large brown envelope. The handwriting on it said, "To be read by my daughter Diana after my death." She pulled from inside it an ordinary black and white composition book. Slowly opening it, she read:

"My Dear Diana,

I am aware that from time to time you have doubted my veracity, but if you are reading this, then I am dead, and dead suddenly, with no way to communicate to you certain information which you must have. Please consider now whether it is in any way possible that I have been murdered. If it is possible, you must act as though it is so and protect yourself accordingly. You will be the target now. I have always told you the truth, Diana, if not the whole truth. And the only reason I have had for holding back the whole truth is your own good. And every instruction I ever gave you still holds true. You are special, you must hide your special ability from others and most importantly, you must never love any man; must never have sex with any man; must never marry. To do so would be to open Pandora's box."

"No!" shrieked Diana and threw the book at the wall.

Charlie peeked in and said, "What? Is your new bikini out of style already?"

Diana instantly relented. "Charlie, you goof ball, I don't wear a bikini, I always swim in the nude."

"Hey, hey, Lady Di, you're getting good at this." Charlie looked impressed and full of energy.

"I have the best teacher." Charlie bowed. "And the best motivation in Sawyer the man of a thousand gibes."

"Cheer up, when you get back he'll be right here to torment you."

"I guess I'm all packed up," she said as she retrieved the book and stuffed it in her pack.


	3. The Others' Home and Where's Hugo?

As Hurley started walking down the long pier, he was already making plans. The firm resolve which had been building in him since he learned of Libby's murder had matured not into anger but a determination to lose no more. It was time to turn a page, to acknowledge that he had passed the point of no return.

Good Time Hurley was dead.

He stepped from the pier to the beach and hustled up to the trees without a backward look. His body language radiated fear; he looked pathetic. But one look at his face showed that it was all a performance. The warrior in him had emerged. Twenty feet into the trees, Hugo took a sharp right and ran thirty feet. He was certain the trees had concealed his movement. Dropping to the ground, he crawled on knees and elbows, commando-like, to where he could spy on the pier. Henry had just directed that Jack, Kate and Sawyer be pulled to their feet. It was obvious that the time had come for the Others to take them to their home. A bee began to buzz around Hurley's face, then another and another, he was being stung! He had crawled right over the nest. He covered his face with his hands and rolled to the side 3 times, coming to a stop at a tree. They stopped stinging and he had never even cried out. He got resituated and looked again at the pier.

They were gone! No boat could have come for them, it would have been in view before. He crawled forward and looked down the beach. Some of the Others were headed his way, but there was no sign of the captives or Henry. He spent as long as he could spying for clues as to where they had headed, but as the patrol began to approach his position he had to rise and flee into the jungle.

He didn't stop until he was sure he had covered as much ground as he should have had he walked the entire time. There was a stream there and he bent down to drink. He was thinking, "I have no supplies, no knife, only a water bottle. He scooped up a handful of water and guzzled it down. When he was finished, he lifted his eyes to the sky, seeking the light as a symbol of the hope which he had lost. Hanging in the tree was a tool belt. A construction-type tool belt, with a walkie-talkie and a hammer visible was resting on a branch as though it had been dropped there. Hugo made it fall by jiggling the whole tree. He grabbed it and hustled on into the jungle. He didn't know exactly which direction to go. He did know that he must make a vow. A vow that he could not easily slide away from. A vow that would bind him and transform him and be a part of his very identity. When he stopped to rest again, he knew how to commemorate his vow. He looked in the tool belt. There was a knife. He hefted it, checked its edge, and then, began to cut off his hair.

Sawyer had just been jerked to his feet again when he felt the needle in his butt. He was out in 5 seconds. When he awoke again, he was in a pleasantly furnished, albeit impersonal room. Henry sat at the foot of his bed, Mona Lisa smile firmly in place.

"Mr. Ford, please make yourself at home. If you don't find everything you need, just pick up the phone and someone will help you. Tomorrow a flight has been arranged to take you back to the States. Since you don't have your passport, we'll get you past the border. Then you are free to go."

"Just like that, huh?" sneered Sawyer. "What, no goodbye kiss? You are just gonna put me on a plane and send me home? After screwing with me for two freakin' months? What the hell is goin' on here, Gomer?"

"Nothing that concerns you, Mr. Ford. It seems to me you should consider this a "Get Out of Jail Free" card."

"Yeah, thanks," he replied sarcastically, "Me and Freckles are so grateful to you for scarin' the crap out of us. So tomorrow, we just go home, huh?"

"You go home, Mr. Ford. Ms. Austen and Dr. Sheppard will remain our guests. Enjoy your evening." said Henry as he left.

Sawyer ran to the door, but when it had closed it latched. He pounded on the door, screaming "Open up! Open up!" After a few minutes, he turned away frustrated, then rounded on the door, kicking it with all his might. After checking the room thoroughly and seeing no way out, he decided to make the best of the situation. He ran the shower until the bathroom was more like a steam room. After a long luxurious shower and a shave with a brand new razor, he lounged on the bed wrapped in only a towel. Picking up the phone, he asked the operator "Hey, sweetheart, how about somethin' to eat?"

Forty minutes later, two gun-toting goons escorted the room-service cart in. They didn't speak and left immediately. Sawyer checked out the food: a thick steak, baked potato and salad. He popped the top off a coke and poured it over the ice. For a moment, he enjoyed the fizzling sound, the sight of the condensation on the glass, the feel of the cold in his hand. "Damned," he said, "if I didn't miss ice the most of anything civilization has to offer."

Kate had come to in a room with Jack. She immediately hit the shower when she saw the shampoo, conditioner, luxury soap and moisturizer. Afterwards, there were emery boards, a hair brush and deodorant. She felt vaguely ashamed that she wanted to enjoy all these sensual treats before figuring a way to get Jack out of this.

Jack, for his part, had completely checked out the room with no better results than Sawyer. He picked up the phone and was told, "Dr. Sheppard, someone will be in to see you directly."

He was not surprised that 'someone' was Henry. Henry brought bodyguards, so Jack had no chance to get past him.

"Dr. Sheppard, I know who you are. Your reputation as a surgeon and as a man are spotless. What's more, I know how you love a challenge. I'm here to invite you to join the most important work in history. It is the greatest challenge ever undertaken, and you can be a pivotal part of it."

"Why should I believe a word you say? You've done nothing but harass us, kidnap us and kill us since we came here."

"Your Hippocratic oath as a doctor says "first, do no harm" and yet doctors routinely do harm patients in order to cure them. Cutting off a gangrenous leg for instance; or administering chemotherapy."

Jack's eyes had narrowed at the mention of leg amputation. How much did these people know about the camp at the beach and the caves? "Certainly," said Jack in a nonchalant way, "but we rarely resort to kidnappings and forced caesarean sections."

"Touche," replied Henry, "our situation is a bit more exigent than that of a 21st century American doctor in a hospital. Tell me this: what do you think would be an acceptable price to pay for world peace? I am talking genuine peace: no war, no terrorism, no murders, no beatings, no shootings, no stabbings, absolutely no intentional infliction of death worldwide."

"That's not possible," temporized Jack.

"But what if it were? What if you could be a part of it? What price do you think mankind should be willing to pay to end the killing now and forever?" Henry knew he had Jack now. Jack's face showed an inward looking expression.

Henry said, "I'll leave you to think on it. Order dinner on the phone, have them send you a good bottle of wine. Relax, get cleaned up, get a good night's sleep. Tomorrow morning we'll talk."

As the door clicked shut behind him, the bathroom door opened and Kate appeared wrapped in the towel sarong-style. Jack decided to let Henry's question wait.


End file.
